One Good Thing
by AddisonRules
Summary: There's been hurt... a lot of it... and with the year approaching its end, it's time to try to find a reason to believe. Spoilers for all of AoS through the midseason finale.


This is a Not-So-Secret-Santa Story for Oparu, who didn't mind that in order for me to get Phil to take Melinda somewhere special, they had to swim through some angst first. Here's to all the good things!

And I own nothing, because if I did, AoS would hurt a lot less (even if it hurts in all the best ways!)

* * *

><p>He wakes to the sound of dishes clanking and feet shuffling downstairs. The absence of conversation aboard the Bus stings Phil Coulson's heart, but he understands. They're only just beginning to put themselves back together, and even New Year's Eve feels like just another day they have to survive.<p>

They're doing better than they were a week ago.

Seven days earlier, the whole lot of them had stared numbly at each other with the realization that it was almost Christmas and not a single soul had any desire to celebrate it. The idea of a holiday about good will and love coming in the midst of their still new grief over Tripp was simply too much to bear.

Skye was barely speaking to anyone, Bobbi and Hunter were worried sick over Mack, who was guilt-ridden over his actions in the temple, and Fitz and Simmons... both were utterly devastated over Tripp and still too distant from each other to ask for the help they needed. Coulson felt lost as to what to do to help them. There was work as a distraction, of course - the hunt for HYDRA didn't stop, even on Christmas, and Ward and Agent 33 were out there, and Raina, and Cal - but it was like the once cohesive group had turned into a hive of disconnected individual worker bees... each busy at their task but unable or unwilling to communicate with one another.

When Melinda had ordered everyone to pack an overnight bag and strap in for takeoff, it caught even Phil off guard. They hadn't discussed any flight plans or travel. But before he could question her, that look that told him she was firmly in control stopped any argument from forming.

"Warm, comfortable, casual. And now you have 29 minutes."

They all did as told, even Skye, who only seemed to respond lately to direct orders from May. Coulson had tried to talk to her, to get her to discuss what happened in the temple, but beyond the basic facts, she refused to say any more about it.

It wasn't until he slipped into the cockpit that the reality of where Melinda was taking them became clear.

"Your mom is okay with this invasion?"

"My mother suggested it."

Coulson nodded and rode along with her in silence, knowing that the pain their team was in was weighing on Melinda and that she needed this time to help her process that so she could be there for them in Pennsylvania.

Lian May either never decorated for the holidays or had stripped her house of the visual representation of Christmas before their arrival. The only thing that spoke to the festive season was a freshly cut tree from her property. It stood beside the fireplace with a simple plaid tree skirt around its base.

"Decorate. Don't decorate. I don't care. You know I only like the smell."

After everyone had been shown to rooms in the large but cozy farmhouse, Melinda issued another order.

"Boots, gloves, meet me on the porch in ten minutes."

If anyone wanted to protest, it remained a secret. They all choked down any dissention and went off to "suit up" for what she had in mind. The small backpack Melinda carried gave away nothing about their destination, but Coulson knew whatever she had planned, having the whole team together, out of the base and off the plane, was already more than he thought they could manage for the holiday. The small smiles Bobbi and Lance exchanged as they laced each other's boots and the fact that Skye stood still while Jemma rambled sweetly and re-wrapped her scarf was the closest thing to happiness he'd seen from any of them in days.

They trekked for about a half an hour to a small rise near the edge of Lian's property just off the lake. The sun glistened off the snow and ice, and somehow here, the dark that was chasing them all over the world was fended off, light refusing to give way amidst the pristine landscape that surrounded them.

Without preamble, Melinda opened her backpack and pulled out a candle, setting it on top of an enormous black rock with a flattened top honed by years of weather. Then she pulled out a lighter and ignited the wick. Her final act was to pull out an item that finally made her plan crystal clear.

A Howling Commandos patch, pulled carefully and expertly from Gabe Jones' jacket, the one Tripp kept in his gear bag at all times.

Melinda placed the patch beside the candle, and then she stood there, eyes closed, silently saying what she needed to in order to let go of the man they were all missing so dearly.

When she was done, she stepped back and gave a slight nod to Phil. He moved to the spot May had just occupied and let his eyes drop to the patch, allowed his memory to fill with Tripp's smile and the sound of his laugh.

"_Sir, I bring the noise and the funk wherever I go."_

Phil felt his lips pull up at the edges. Damned if that wasn't how he'd always think of Tripp in the years to come.

They had each taken their turn then, some with newer, fresher memories, some with tears and regrets, and Skye with the mountain of unwarranted guilt that seemed to press her into the Earth.

When it was done, Melinda picked up the candle and the patch and looked to Skye.

"Grab that, will you?"

She motioned with her head toward her backpack, and Skye did as asked and followed Melinda to the edge of the frozen lake. Once they were there, Melinda traded her wares with Skye and pulled a multi-tool he'd seen her use on countless missions from the backpack.

After a small amount of exertion on May's part, the ice near them fractured, water swirling freely beneath the opening she had created.

Phil watched as May moved to Skye and placed both her hands on the younger woman's shoulders.

"This isn't what he'd want for you. For any of us. Let him go."

For a long moment, no one moved, waiting to see how Skye would respond, but then she gave a hint of a nod and stepped to the spot where earth and water met.

When her hand moved the patch to the flame, Phil wasn't sure he understood, but then he felt Melinda's hold on his arm, and it settled him, made him wait until the pieces clicked.

Skye leaned down and let the patch burn, the ashes dropping into the water, free. Only when she had to did she release the last corner, watching as freezing cold liquid extinguished the fire.

No one spoke as they made their way back to the May house, Melinda leading the way, but somehow they were better. Skye walked pressed into Coulson's side as she finally let herself have some comfort, and quiet conversation spread amongst the rest of the group, an easiness there that hadn't been just an hour earlier.

Back at the house, after Melinda disappeared into the kitchen to help her mother prepare dinner, Phil watched as first Fitz and then Jemma reached into the boxes of ornaments and began to decorate the empty tree. Mack joined in, taking the higher branches, and then Hunter decided to ask for popcorn he and Bobbi could string.

And there in the one place on earth Melinda May called home, Phil watched his team start to come back to life.

Dinner was a feast but distinctly non-holiday themed, and as conversation began to bubble around the table, even Skye participated, though her usual spirit was clearly still dampened. But what Phil remembered most was looking up to see the enormous relief on Melinda's face as this ragtag group of people he knew she loved dearly managed to stop grieving and running for one night.

But even with the lifting of some of that burden from her shoulders, Phil could see in the long gaze she passed over each person at the table what she was so good at hiding. Melinda May was totally and completely exhausted.

Not physically. Her body was a well-trained machine in that respect, and she had an ability to push herself past normal limits in a way that astounded him. But emotionally, spiritually... she was drained. And it hit him just how long she'd been running full throttle without so much as a moment to let her guard down. Even before Phil had begun to worry about what his resurrection had left behind inside of him, before the team, before the destruction of SHIELD... even then she had been wrapped up in the tendrils of Fury's plan, studying profiles, trying to find just the right group of agents to keep Phil sane and healthy and alive.

She'd endured his anger and Ward's betrayal and then, Phil marveled anew, stood by his side through the fight to just find a safe place to regroup and rebuild. As if that sum total of angst hadn't been enough, the finishing touch had to have been the fear she'd carried alone for months over the hypergraphia, watching him deteriorate, racing the clock for answers before she had to follow through on the dreadful promise he'd asked her to make.

He could still recall the look in Melinda's eyes as she'd given that small nod of agreement to his demand the she kill him if he "went the way of Garrett." Something in her dimmed that day and had yet to reignite, and the responsibility for that lay fully at his feet.

Phil had known in that moment of recognition sitting around Lian's table that his plans for the New Year had to be focused on one thing, but the how of it had escaped him until a routine check-in with Natasha had given him an idea.

Now with New Year's Eve already dawning, Coulson rose and showered. He eyed the information that was already loaded into his tablet, checked to make sure all the gear they would need was packed in the bags hidden in his bunk closet, and then he hit "send" before making his way down to the galley.

Breakfast was made and the whole team gathered, enjoying the meal. Melinda was there, the plane on autopilot, but he knew she has to head up to prep for landing soon. He could see that she'd gotten the message he sent her from the look she gave him, but for now, the information remained a secret for only them.

"So is this trip down under about the guy?" Skye asked, and Melinda shook her head.

"No. My mother is trying to get a twenty on Andrew right now."

Melinda and Phil had told Skye about Andrew and the idea that he might be able to help her understand what had happened with the obelisk. Phil thought he could see Skye unwinding the tiniest bit since she knew there was a possibility of assistance out there somewhere, and he was grateful he'd listened when Melinda said keeping secrets from Skye at this point would only make things worse.

"So why Sydney?" Bobbi asked between bites of the pancakes Mack and Jemma had made.

"Downtime."

Coulson's reply was met with nine pairs of eyes looking at him like he'd lost his mind. It would've been funny except that the Koenig brothers were kind of freaking him out.

"There's a hangar beneath the opera house. One of Fury's secret bunkers. We've been running for months. Millions of people flood Sydney to celebrate the New Year. We can hide in plain sight, for a little while at least."

"So, like, we're off tonight?" Hunter seemed to be the first one to allow himself to be excited at the prospect.

"We are."

That was the one part of the plan that was news to May and he could tell she was already trying to figure out what angle he was working. The message she'd received minutes earlier told her to prep a quinjet for a flight to New Zealand. Two-man mission, just them, overnighter.

Not that she'd be against the group at least trying to take the night off to enjoy themselves. Melinda hadn't even wanted to fly them to Sydney after Phil told her there was recon that needed to be done in the hunt for Whitehall's partners, not if it meant stealing any chance of the holiday away from the team.

He figured she'd forgive him that fib now that Mack was telling Fitz about this great bar he knew in Sydney that had laser tag in the basement, especially when a genuine laugh rang out from the younger man.

It had been a long time since they'd heard that sound.

Plans began to perk amongst the group and Phil stepped in beside Melinda to clean the kitchen as the others wandered off.

"You don't really believe they can convince Skye to go out and have fun tonight?"

Phil glanced at Melinda to answer and handed her a plate to dry.

"No. But I've got that covered."

She eyed him suspiciously.

"This two-man operation..."

"Is important," he said, cutting her off. "But it isn't something they need to know about."

She nodded, forehead furrowed, clearly worried about more secrets coming into play but unwilling to challenge him in that moment.

"What kind of gear should I pack?"

"Already done."

Now she was definitely giving him that Melinda May "I know you're up to something" look, brow raised for emphasis.

"You do know I'm capable of packing a gear bag, right?"

That made her chuckle.

"Capable, yes. Happy to do it, rarely."

He couldn't dispute that. But for this occasion, he was more than happy to take the task on himself.

"You've had your mind on more important things." Phil knew she understood his meaning when her eyes reflexively darted in the direction of the lounge where Skye sat quietly amongst the growing excitement of her friends.

"You're still sure we should reach out to Andrew?"

Phil had been worried about it since May suggested it to help Skye deal with the fallout of the temple. Meditation and distraction only went so far, and the last time Skye had gotten too emotional, May had spent the day repairing a crack in the side of the plane. So Andrew was a good idea, but Phil also knew what it would do to Melinda, seeing her ex again. It brought up other memories, not just of her marriage breaking up, but about the abyss she had fought so hard to escape.

"It's what's best for Skye."

Her answer only deepened his resolve about tonight and what lay ahead of them.

Melinda retreated to the cockpit then to land and navigate the entryway into the Sydney hangar. Phil headed back to his bunk to gather their gear and move it to the quinjet access hallway. And then his phone dinged.

"You're late and I'm thirsty."

He chuckled and headed for the cargo ramp. Melinda was in the garage going over some new security measures with Mack and Fitz - secret hangar or not, she wasn't taking any chances. When he opened the cargo door, they all looked at him curiously, but before Phil could announce who was joining them, their visitor did it for him.

"Damn, May, you hording all the hot men for yourself these days?"

Melinda smiled - the one that hurt her face if she had to do it too often - and walked away from the boys to where Natasha dropped her bag and met her former S.O. with a strong, warm embrace.

"You know me. I like having nice eye candy around."

The hug caught Mack and Fitz off guard and both of them stared a moment, then turned away. For Phil, though, it brought another bit of light into the heaviness of his chest. Even just this moment with an old friend felt like something he'd been long overdue in giving to his right hand, but at least it was finally a reality.

"A girl could do worse for New Year's Eve," Natasha quipped, as she released Melinda and sent a flirty look toward the now shy men in the corner.

Phil moved toward them, getting his own shorter hug from Nat before he caught Melinda studying him, questions all over her face.

"My plan. For Skye. If Natasha can't get her off the plane..."

"Then at least I can keep her safe on it. But I'll get her off the plane. It's what I do."

Natasha moved away from them then, laser focus moving to Mack and Fitz and Jemma, who'd bounded through the doorway wondering who had come on board. Phil was so busy watching the stunned younger agents react to meeting Black Widow that Melinda's nudge to his rib cage nearly knocked him over.

"Phil, what is going on?"

"Debt that needs to be repaid. Tonight won't begin to cover it, but... it'll be a start."

He was aware that he was taking slight advantage of her - Melinda would follow him wherever he asked, and pretending this was related to their larger mission wasn't really fair. But he knew her as well as she knew him... and he was playing his cards the way he had to in order to achieve his goal.

Half an hour later, they were loading their gear into the quinjet, but Phil made sure the bag marked with tactical tape stayed in his hands. Melinda, of course, noticed and rolled her eyes. Phil decided the best counter-move was a straight-up diversion.

"Natasha's hitching a ride with us back to the States. Mostly I think she's mad I took you away from her so quickly."

May motioned for Phil to fasten his seat belts as she fired up the engines.

"I'll make sure she saves the Captain America stories for when you're around."

His smile drew hers out, and Phil let the tension he was feeling slip away. The team was in good hands, and this night was long overdue. He only hoped the end result was all that he wanted it to be.

* * *

><p>"We're camping?"<p>

Phil looked up from unpacking their tent and smiled at the utterly bemused look on Melinda's face.

"Did you look at this place? Beautiful, right?"

They were on a peak overlooking Wainui Beach in Gisborne after a short flight to New Zealand. Natasha had already stashed a jeep for them near the spot where the quinjet waited for the flight home, and they'd driven the off-road vehicle to the closest point they could before a hike finished their trek.

The sun would be gone in an hour.

Hundreds of campers were littered on the beach down below or scattered around the private resort areas, but this peak was government property and closed to the public. Thankfully Phil had strings he could pull - or rather, Stark Industries had strings they could pull via Maria Hill, who had permitted a "research site" for the evening at the last-minute.

"Our mission that was so important you pulled Natasha Romanoff out of the field to babysit our plane and our team... is camping."

He smiled up at her, so pleased with himself he could barely stand it. She was flustered... put out with him, amused, curious, and a little on edge. It wasn't a version of Melinda May many people got to see, but it was one of Phil's favorites.

"Short answer... yes."

He turned back to the tent assembly in order to avoid getting punched for the smirk he could feel spreading across his face. Melinda took advantage of his move to reach for the marked gear bag.

"Melinda, don't - "

But it was too late, she'd opened the bag and found all the special items he'd packed for tonight... the top shelf scotch, the food Nat had grabbed in Sydney for him, an iPod and small speaker.

Her earlier patience and curiosity were gone, the items in the bag alerting her to the more personal nature of tonight's "mission," and Phil rose to his feet as she stepped toward him.

"Phil, we don't have time for this. We- "

"When was the last time you stopped?"

His question threw Melinda, putting her back on her heels.

"Stopped what?"

"Stopped. Period. Worrying, protecting, managing, holding secrets, keeping watch, fighting, running, grieving... all of it... when was the last time you stopped and just stood still and took a breath?"

She opened her mouth to answer but there were no words, and Melinda stared back at him, stunned.

"My rough guess is the day before I died. You were sitting in that cubical stapling reports and wondering what stupid thing I was going to call and tell you I'd done in front of Steve, maybe planning to make dinner reservations with Nat for a post-mission debrief. And then the next day, the world changed, and you have not stopped since, Melinda."

Her eyes fluttered closed and Melinda drew in a deep breath. When the words reached Phil, they were so soft, he'd have missed them if she weren't the sole holder of his focus.

"I can't stop."

He stepped closer then, hand finding hers, fingers twining together.

"You can. We can. Just for one night... just to remember what the hell we're fighting for."

Her eyes stayed closed and she shook her head, and Phil closed the distance between them, pulling her in, his arms wrapping around her.

"Natasha knows where we are. If anything happens, she's there with them, and she's not you, but she's as close as anything on Earth gets and she knows you love them. She will never let anyone hurt our team."

Melinda's breath shuddered, but she sank into him, relaxing just a little.

"What we've lost, survived... there's nothing that could make up for that. This isn't magic I'm proposing here, and it doesn't fix anything. It's just a moment to... to ground ourselves. Okay?"

They were losing light fast now, the last rays of the day fading, their campsite still a mess. The moon was poised to take center stage soon, bidding the year goodbye on what promised to be a beautiful, starry night as the warmth of the day gave way to an evening chill.

Finally, she nodded against his shoulder, and Phil squeezed Melinda tight one last time before he stepped back.

"I'm gonna finish this. Why don't you see if I managed to load a playlist you like on that thing?"

Phil turned his attention back to finishing the tent setup, and he felt her eyes following his every movement while her mind tried to accept what was happening. It was how she processed anything that went against her nature… slowly, objectively. And taking time for herself was most definitely against her nature.

Finally, as he moved inside the tent to double-check the security of the supports, he saw Melinda pick up the iPod and begin to scroll through the music he'd loaded into it specifically for tonight. Moments later, a compilation of Dustin O'Halloran tunes began to play softly.

Turning, he pulled in the double sleeping bag and set it up before making his final move - placing the gear bag of supplies in the back of the tent. Then Phil sat down in the large front opening, knees bent, arms relaxed comfortably on his knees.

"You planning to stay out there all night?"

Melinda's gaze was more relaxed now, but pointed, looking for something she hadn't found yet. When her answer to his question was an inquiry of her own, it didn't surprise him.

"Why here?"

Phil smiled at that.

"It's not time yet. But I promise, there's a good reason. You hungry?"

He turned and began unpacking the dinner Natasha had grabbed for them and carefully set the scotch bottle out, two glasses ready to fill. Phil focused on his preparations and waited her out until at long last Melinda sat down beside him. The feather-light touch of her fingers against his hand made him pause and lift his eyes to hers.

"Thank you, Phil. I… You went to all this trouble, and I didn't even… "

He turned his hand over and grasped hers.

"Just let yourself enjoy it. That's all I need."

She smiled and nodded and moved to fill their glasses as Phil finished setting out their meal. By the time they were ready to take the first bite, the moon was blazing overhead, and stars were dotting the sky.

"It really is beautiful," she said, her dark irises glistening in the natural light. Phil felt his shoulders ease at seeing her begin to surrender to how special a place this really was.

They fell into a comfortable conversation from there… shared memories, joking about details and who remembered what better about the earliest days of their friendship. The food disappeared, the scotch level sank lower, and the night continued to be gorgeous around them… even the murmur of the campers down below somehow blending into the music in a way that made them a welcome addition to their bit of solitude.

Phil glanced at his watch and saw the time… the final minutes of the year beginning to tick by them. He stood and reached out his hand. Melinda understood his intention immediately, but still took his offer of assistance and rose up to meet him with her eyes rolling.

"I'm not doing any stupid Tangos on a mountaintop."

"No stupid Tangos. Promise."

Their steps were unhurried, their bodies in sync without effort, and they swayed to the strains of some instrumental he couldn't name.

"You still haven't told me why here."

A chuckle rattled Phil's chest as he dipped his mouth toward her ear.

"It's not time yet."

Melinda huffed but made no move to pull away from him, and they settled even more into one another, comfortable in a way you can only be with someone who has seen your soul and loves the bad in you as much as the good.

"I meant it, you know. Your plan… the cabin, taking care of me… it was the most amazing thing anyone has ever wanted to do for me. I was trying to think of anything from this past year that I'd call a good thing, and that was it… being reminded how lucky I am to have you."

Her hand squeezed his shoulder.

"Always."

"I know," he said, nodding.

Their dance went on even as cheers began down below and the dark, terrifying year they'd survived gave way to a new one full of unknowns.

"There was at least one thing, wasn't there?" Phil whispered. "One thing this year that was good, that made you happy even though so many terrible things happened?"

For a long moment she was quiet, and then he felt her sigh against him.

"Skye. We found her first. That matters, doesn't it?"

It made him stop dancing and just hold her, his heart overflowing in that moment because if that was her one good thing, then they were going to be okay.

"It's everything, Melinda. It's why it's all worth it."

Hours later, the alarm Phil had set on his watch buzzed softly and he woke to see that it was nearly time. Melinda was still asleep, head pillowed on his chest, genuinely at rest, and for a moment, Phil almost decided that was more important than his initial plan. It had been so long since he'd seen her have any peace, and that she'd found it tonight, that her brow lay smooth and unburdened by nightmares or worry, made his heart tight in his chest.

But he'd also promised her an answer to her question, so Phil gently called her name until her eyes opened.

"You wanted to know why here."

"It's time?" she asked, pushing herself up, and Phil nodded and pulled back the front flaps of the tent completely.

"This place… it's the first place in the world you can see the sunrise."

Melinda ducked her head down to his shoulder and leaned against him as they settled in to watch the show, the dance of light rising up to herald a new day, a new year, colors playing along the water as dawn took command of the world.

With it, the sun brought infinite possibility. Maybe more tragedy lay ahead. Maybe the tide would turn. There was no way to know for certain. But there was a chance that they could make a difference, that the chaos could be fought back one more time to give the light a chance to win.

There was hope.

He saw it in her eyes when Melinda lifted her head and turned to him, and Phil felt everything inside him brighten with the beauty of it.

"This… this will be hard to top for my one good thing, and it's only the first day of the year."

Phil pulled her closer, forehead leaning into hers. Somehow despite everything, there was right in the world… this, them, their team, the possibility of better.

Maybe there wouldn't be another good day in the months ahead, but they had this one to hold on to. Phil figured that was enough to keep them going.

One good thing was enough to believe there could be more.


End file.
